


cosmically

by sebstahn



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 01:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebstahn/pseuds/sebstahn
Summary: the stars are burning, he will say to you.and you will say, that is just what they do.





	cosmically

**Author's Note:**

> reposting this since i deleted the first.

is there a universe where you'll tell him, you wonder.

 

you'll tell him that you really didn't mind him being beside you. but, then again, maybe he already knows. you'll tell him that you've had impulses around him that you have around no one else: running your fingers through his hair, telling him  _ it's okay _ , telling him so many other things.

 

(his hair  — it's golden when you meet him, like a halo, turning ashy when you leave him.)

 

you'll tell him that there wasn't ever a single universe that could compare to the green in his eyes.

 

_ it's beautiful.  _ you'd see him wring his hands in front of you, the back of his head painted stiff in front of your eyes. he never expected a response from you, but he still said it. someone else would agree, and you'd be left with your tongue in your throat, a universe and some like a backdrop to the man in front of you.

 

—  _ did you know?  _

 

did you know he'd end up meaning everything to you? it was he who drove galaxies out of you.

 

is there a universe where you'll tell him just a little more than  _ thank you _ , you wonder. where you'll say something and it'll shatter gravity itself. you'll say something and it'll create a black hole in his heart, maybe in yours, too. 

 

maybe then you'd draw him in.

 

it wasn’t just on that ship where you felt like you were falling. if you were with him — it was everywhere. he  _ was  _ your gravitational pull. if it was metal, or dirt, or red dust, or grass — the ground beneath you didn’t matter. besides, he made you feel like there was no ground at all.

 

you were scared, you’ll tell him that. these things were unfamiliar, but they made up oh so much of you. 

 

he was freckles like galaxies, and you were confusion like disease, like error. you felt his stardust when he’d whisper to you.  _ it’s okay _ — to feel, to want, to need, to love, to miss, to fuck up.

 

you’ll tell him that you wondered how an earthling like him could be so cosmic, how he could rearrange your composition with just a smile.

 

is there a universe where he'll tell you what you should do, instead of you telling him — he'll tell you, and you'll say:  _ yes captain, my captain. _

 

_ should have done that eons ago. _

 

is there a universe where it isn't all confusing, where your bones won't shift beneath your skin when he says your name. where you know what to say, or where you know what to do. where what you  _ want  _ to do doesn't seem so illogical.

 

_ it'll be me _ , you'll tell him. that blood in his mouth won't matter, that dust in his hair won't matter. you will make history just by touching him.

 

_ do you remember the day we left earth _

_ and you and i met _

_ in the stars. _

 

and you'll wake up in his sweatshirt, the one from when he was just a student. when you are bloody and beaten he'll say that you need to.  _ you'll get too cold _ . he'll put it over your arms and that's how you'll fall asleep.

 

and you will be standing in a room and, by some chance, you will not be beside each other. but he will still be looking at you looking at him.

 

you will map the freckles on his skin into constellations, because that's what they are. he smells like light and red life that's been tortured and contorted by tragedies.

 

he is reckless. he is everything that you used to call illogical.

 

he is all kinds of chaos, and he makes your blood rush.

 

but he is your peace. in the middle of the stars, there is comfort in his existence.

 

and they will keep questioning your place in this world. your lover will call it tragic, but he'll make up for your losses. you should really start learning how to recognize just how much he adores you.

 

is there a universe where you won't have to lie about your hands trembling. there is blood on his lips and you wish it was your own. you would trade bodies and souls with him just so he could scrape past the pain.

 

is there a universe where your lover is  _ okay _ .

this one has been far too cruel.

 

do you know what he feels like? — the outline of his features, they are golden.

 

are you allowed to compare him to the sun?

are you allowed to coin him as its solar flares?

and maybe you are his moon, because one of you is always running, never reaching the other.

 

one of you should really tell the other to slow. your hand touching his spine — that is how the universe will crumble.

 

and the universe may end up calling him a war hero.

but he is just a boy that is dying because you aren't telling him you love him.

 

and the skies are starving and you still aren't telling him. 

 

his heart is collapsing and you still aren't telling him.

 

there are chemical reactions on the surface of your skin and you still aren't telling him.

 

_ the stars are burning _ , he will say to you. 

and you will say,  _ that is just what they do. _

 

and, he won't say it, but he is thinking,  _ they're burning because of us. _

 

and they are. because there may be a universe where you tell him you love him but it is not this one.

 

there are stars that will explode and your ears will be ringing and you will always look at him and his mouth is moving but you can't tell what his lips are saying.

 

but he is saying he loves you.

 

his hair is a mess and your mouth is forming a straight line.

 

the moon is somewhere near you and the stars are watching and he's telling you he loves you.

 

but this is the universe where stars are dying and you do not hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, always.  
> tumblr: sebstahn.  
> whi: 97MIN.


End file.
